


Laugh Until You Cry

by acme146



Series: Fading Scars [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Grief, Healing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-05 21:26:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10317299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acme146/pseuds/acme146
Summary: George is hiding from his wife. His daughter is procrastinating studying for OWLs. They still manage to find some fun, and Roxanne learns that laughter's more powerful than she can ever understand. Also that her parents are rather strange.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Shen: I scarred you for life!  
> Po: See that’s the thing, Shen. Scars heal.  
> Shen: No they don’t. Wounds heal.   
> Po: Oh yeah. What do scars do? They fade, I guess.  
> Shen: I don’t care what scars do.   
> — Kung Fu Panda 2 
> 
> This, by the way, is the quote that inspired the name of this series.

                It was nearly Christmas and George was trying to stay out of Angelina’s way. Angie was wonderful and lovely and welcoming to their large family, but the next day it was their turn to host a Potter-Weasley-Granger-Johnson-Lovegood-Delacour-Lupin-dear-God-why-are-there-so-many-names holiday party, and if there was one thing Angelina hated it was planning a party. In past years he’d attempted to be a helpful, dutiful husband. Angie only had to tell him once that not only was he being unhelpful by trying to chat with her, she’d hex him into next week if he got in her way.

                So George was currently hiding in the one already-tidy room, sitting very still to keep from messing anything up. Angelina’s harried voice could be heard down the hall—Fleur was making a Floo-call to help with party favours. George shuddered and tilted his head away from the door, focusing on Lee’s book.

                “Dad?”

                George looked up. Roxanne was in the doorway. She’d been in her room most of the holiday so far—“OWLs are important, Dad!”—and they hadn’t had much chance to chat.

                George held out his right arm. “C’mere, Rox, if your Mum sees you she’ll go spare.”

                Roxanne giggled and came into the room, curling up against him. Her hair was done up in a tight bun, probably to stop herself from yanking on it in frustration. George felt a bit bad passing that habit on to her.

                “What are you reading?”

                “Your Uncle Lee’s book,” George replied. He held it so she could see— _Score! Comments from the Commentator’s Chair_ by Lee Jordan.

                “I still can’t believe he wrote that.”

                “He had to, Rita Skeeter was flitting about making threats about doing it herself. Anyways, Lee’s always loved to talk about what he’s seen.” George tapped the cover. “Of course there’s not much in here about him, now is there?”  
                “I haven’t read it all the way through yet,” Roxanne confessed. “But you’re right—he hardly talks about himself at all.”

                “Lee’s never been all that interested in himself,” George replied. “He doesn’t think anyone else would be either.”

                Roxanne took the book from him and flipped through, landing on the Potterwatch chapter. “This was brilliant.”

                George smiled. “It was the only source of news that didn’t have Death Eater slobber all over it. Your uncles did a brilliant job.”

                “You were in it too,” Roxanne said, pointing to a transcript of one of the broadcasts. “You were ‘Wit’, right, and Uncle Fred was ‘Rapier’?”

                George swallowed, forcing himself to keep smiling. “Exactly. I wasn’t on as often as Fred, someone had to run the orders, but I went on when I could. It was really important to give people some laughs, you know?”

                Roxanne nodded, but she looked troubled.

                “Something wrong, Roxy?” George asked.

                “How did you do it, Dad? All of you?”

                “Do what?”

                “Find something to laugh about in…in all of that.”

                George didn’t reply.

                Roxanne tapped the book. “I’ve been going through the old recordings and these transcripts, and there are some really funny moments—I’ve laughed out loud more than once. And I just don’t get it. How did you find laughter when the world was falling apart?”

                George stroked his chin. “I’m not really sure I know how to explain, Roxy, but I’ll give it a go.” He thought it over for a minute. “Fred and I were sort of used to finding the funny, I suppose, but it was definitely harder when there was so much bad going on. That was a terrible year, for everyone…but that only made us more determined.” A flash of memory—Fred sitting across from him, face screwed up with pain from jinxes and writing ridiculous puns about He Who Shall Not Have A Nose.

                “See, the thing is Roxy, there’s always a sad side and a happy side to everything. Like…a couple might be getting together, and one of them’s got a secret admirer who’ll be forever alone. Or an old woman dies, but she’s the last person in her family and now she’ll get to join them. And somewhere in between is the funny. You find it, and it helps to show both sides, not just one.”

                Roxanne looked up at him. “So you’d look there?”

                “Yeah. And we took it seriously, funnily enough” (he winked as Roxanne groaned). “It’s good to remember how to laugh, maybe especially when all you want to do is cry. That’s all Fred and I ever wanted to do….”

                George stopped talking, letting his thoughts drift back to when he wasn’t only a brother, but a twin. He didn’t feel like one anymore.

                “So…” Roxanne looked up at him. “Is that a good way to remember Uncle Fred? Find the funny?”

                George squeezed her gently. “It’s a brilliant way. His life had a lot of happy parts, and a few sad…some very sad. But I think he’d be honoured if you went looking for funny in him, Roxy.”

                Roxanne furrowed her brow. “Didn’t he get you and Mum together?”

                George laughed out loud. “He did indeed, although it did take quite a while. I don’t think I’ve ever told you the full story, have I?” At Roxy’s headshake, he leaned back, arm still around her shoulders. “It was the Yule Ball in our sixth year, and I had the most hopeless crush on your Mum; I’d had it for years. But I couldn’t tell her—I just couldn’t do it. I’m sure she must have guessed, and of course Fred knew. And he asked her out anyways.”

                “Bad Uncle Fred!” Roxanne said indignantly.

                George grinned. “He knew exactly what he was doing, too. He brought Angelina down to the Great Hall—God, she was beautiful that night…Anyways, we were dressed identically, as always, and at one point Fred spun her into me and ran off before I could stop him. I dunno whether he was trying to trick her into thinking I was him, but she knew. She’s always known.”

                Roxanne rolled her eyes. “Yes, Dad, I know.”

                “Well, we had one dance together, and it was brilliant, but your Mum didn’t say much. Then when we were going upstairs she told me that she and Fred weren’t dating at all, and if I wanted to kiss her she wouldn’t say no.”

                “And did you kiss her?”

                “Nope.” George grinned at Roxanne’s frustrated groan. “I had this terrible nervousness that if she was my first kiss then it wouldn’t be forever. And I wanted that with her, so I said no thanks.”

                “Bet that made Uncle Fred mad.”

                “Oh it did. He was so frustrated with the both of us, but we got busy with the shop and then…well, the war began. But Fred had one last trick to pull on the both of us.”

                “Your Mum wanted to come to Bill and Fleur’s wedding, but security was very tight and my Mum thought it best not to risk too many people, and your Mum understood, she was more mine and Fred’s friend than Bill’s. But Fred—well, as he put it, ‘wasn’t going into a bloody war with me still being an idiot.’ So he got hold of some Polyjuice Potion and asked one of Fleur’s cousins for a favour…”

                “Oh no,” Roxanne giggled.

                “Imagine my surprise when this lovely French girl I’ve been chatting up for about an hour in French suddenly turns into my gorgeous wife-to-be! Right after I kissed her, of course.”  

                “I didn’t know you could speak French.”

                “I can’t! Neither can your Mum! Merlin knows what we were saying!”

                Roxanne laughed out loud and George joined in.

                “And now look at me,” he said. “I’ve got a lovely wife and two amazing kids, both of whom are far better students and Quidditch players than their parents. All because my brother wanted me to kiss a girl.”

                Roxanne grinned. “I suppose that’s the happy part of that story, right?”

                “It certainly is one of them,” George said, kissing the top of her head. “There were lots of others, each with their own funny bits. Your Uncle was good at that.” He paused. “I wish you could meet him.”

                “I’ll meet him someday,” Roxanne said confidently, and for the first time George let himself believe that, that one day he would talk to Fred again and say, ‘look, here’s my daughter, and she reminds me so much of you. ’

                “That’ll be grand, Roxy,” he said quietly. He looked into Roxanne’s eyes for a minute, trying to tell her how happy he was, really, even with the sad parts. He hoped she knew—she was, after all, one of the three main reasons he could still find the funny.

                “But in the meantime, we should run, I can hear your Mum coming even from my bad ear, and I do believe we’ve disturbed her planning.”

                Roxanne looked briefly panicked. “Which way?”

                George chuckled and led her swiftly to the fireplace as Angelina’s footsteps came nearer. “Why don’t we pop into the shop for a bit? I’ve got some new products that I want you to try out…”

**Author's Note:**

> I am 100% making up George and Angelina's story, and I know it's improbable, but I don't care.   
> Cheers,  
> Acme


End file.
